


Just Whistle

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Final Fantasy - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:51:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And, if we lose each other, just whistle and I’ll come, okay?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Whistle

**Author's Note:**

> FFX!Klaine

Luca is crowded—much more crowded than anything Kurt is used to, that is. Besaid is much smaller, but, then again, it’s much smaller than most places in Spira. He frowns as he looks around, flanked on all sides by people who are either ignoring him completely or eyeing the ornate staff he has gripped tightly in his hands. It makes him feel nervous, but he tries to push the feeling away and keep his chin held high. He is a  _summoner_ —he’s faced scarier, more dangerous things than a few shifty eyed people.

“I hope we don’t get separated,” he mumbles, glancing around, and then starts to a standstill when he hears a sharp noise behind him.

When he turns, there’s Blaine, grinning a little sheepishly.

“What was  _that?_ ” Kurt asks, bemused, as Blaine strolls over. His eyebrows lift in surprise, the same way they often do—the way they do when Kurt doesn’t know something Blaine thinks people should know, which happens very frequently. But Blaine never does more than raise his eyebrows, and maybe smile a little. Kurt is grateful for it.

“I was whistling,” Blaine explains. He sticks his fingers in his mouth, and then the sharp sound comes again. It bites over the noise of the crowds, cutting straight into Kurt’s ears. Kurt winces slightly, the sound so much louder with Blaine standing right there, but tilts his head curiously. “Here, I’ll teach you, just.” Blaine flounders for a moment, and then holds up his hand, his fingers curved together. “Hold your fingers like this.”

“Like this?” Kurt mimics him, and Blaine grins and nods.

“Now stick them in your mouth.” Blaine does it, and Kurt lifts an eyebrow. “Stick them in your mouth,” Blaine says around his fingers, the words muffled and slurred together, and Kurt’s lips crack into a smile as he fights the laughter bubbling at the base of his throat.

“I—”

“ _Stick them in your mouth_ ,” Blaine insists, and he sounds and  _looks_  so ridiculous, that Kurt complies. Blaine’s eyes brighten, and then he’s making the sharp noise again.

“And blow,” Blaine instructs, after his fingers are out of his mouth—they’re slick with spit, and he wipes them awkwardly on the fabric of his shorts.

Kurt does—but there’s no sound. His eyebrows furrow, and he tries again. And again. And again. But he can’t muster more than the sound of rushing hair.

“It’s not working,” he huffs, letting his hand fall and then grimacing. But then Blaine is offering one of the fabric bands that decorate his arm, and Kurt smiles gratefully.

“You just need to practice. You’ll get it,” Blaine assures. “And, if we lose each other, just whistle and I’ll come, okay?” Blaine says earnestly. “I promise.”

Kurt blushes, looking down, and feeling slightly stupid that he can’t get down this _whistling_  thing. He sticks his fingers in his mouth again, blows—there’s a bit of a sound now, like the trill of a small bird, and he looks up at Blaine in excitement.

“See?” Blaine smiles warmly. “But, until you get it down, we should probably stick together.”

Blaine holds out his hand, and Kurt stares at it for a moment, biting his lip and then grabbing it hesitantly. Blaine’s hand is warm, wrapped around his, and squeezes once.

“We should probably go find the others. If anything happens to you,  _Lord Summoner_ , Santana will  _kill_  me.”


End file.
